Coming to the Surface
by CharlieMaye
Summary: Meara, a creature of the Black Lake, reflects upon her past as the Final Battle of Hogwarts takes place. She reflects upon the lessons, miseries, friendships, and heartbreaks as the battle unfolds. As it inches closer and closer to the end, she does all she can to hold onto what she loves most deeply.
1. The Black Lake

**A/N: Hello everyone! I tried doing this story about a year ago and I wasn't happy with the direction of it. So I'm going to keep the same basic idea but how I go about completing it will be different. So stick with me here :)**

**Also, I don't own any of this. Just Meara. Everything else blongs to our wonderful Rowling!**

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><p>The<em> date was May 2nd, 1998 and the Wizarding World was collapsing on itself. Dark wizards using dark, evil magic were fighting against the teachers-protectors of Hogwarts—and students—merely children. Chaos took place of the little remaining order that was left. The castle was being bombarded and the forest was lit up with fire. <em>

_This was on the Surface World._

_However, there was another world that managed to escape much of Voldemort's terror. Beneath the Black Lake, there was an entirely different society. _

_ The underwater merpeople, merrows and creatures of the Black Lake alike remained neutral with the battle of Hogwarts and merely observed from their home beneath. _

_ The life below all mostly continued with their daily lives and there was a low hum to their movement. It wasn't fast, like the destructive world above, but low and soft. Each life had his or her own particular melody that contributed to the functioning musical structure. _

_ The large squid, sinking towards the depths, was soft and low and carried the fundamental idea of their world. _

_ The grindylows, horrible little creatures, contributed the occasional musical distortion, or something one would not expect. _

_ Now the merpeople provided the melody as they were the most abundant and prospering of creatures. _

_ However there remained another group the contributed to this complex ecosystem. Similar to the merpeople, however more emotionally complex and perceptive. These were the ones that actually heard this music that each creature added. These are the creatures we shall focus on. _

_ In one shallow depth of the Black Lake, a group of merrows took shelter in their rocky abode. "This is dreadful. I don't understand them sometimes." Tallula whispered as she peaked out from the hood of her _cohuleen druith_. She was the youngest of the group. _

_ "Why are we just sitting here? We should be doing something about this!" This time Cathal swam far above their cove to float above them all. An explosion of fire flashed above the surface, followed the scorching limb of a tree. Once it broke surface of the water, the fire burnt out and it quickly sank to the bottom, leaving bubbles behind it. "We like to think that this doesn't effect us but it does!"_

_ "Not as much as we think." Conn calmly added._

_ Tallula reached for her brother. "Come back. We'll see when this passes." _

_ Their conversation continued as the fourth sibling of the group, Meara, remained quiet. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she silently peeked through the grass and rocks and murky water. The air above flashed and glittered with bitter spells and biting fire. All she wanted to do was swim to the surface. _

_ It was then that she mentally chastised herself. _

_ If it wasn't for that exact habit—swimming and sun bathing on the Surface-, she wouldn't be feeling so many complex emotions. If she just would've stayed far away from shore. _

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><p>It started on a beautiful May afternoon, years and years before the Final Battle. The ice had long melted away from the lake and life started to flourish once more.<p>

Meara, being curious and adventurous, decided to move even closer to the shore. Being perched on a large rock, she would be able to absorb the warmth of the sun, look out on the sparkling lake, and even reach over and pick growing flowers on the shoreline. It was quickly became her favorite rock.

With her cohuleen druith set aside, Meara used her slim white fingers to brush through her long algae tinted hair and she allowed for her eyes to shut close as a soft tune floated through her ears. The melody softly bubbled up to her throat so she began to sing along.

Meara sat like this, quite peaceful and content for what seemed like an hour until a muffled crunch sounded from behind.

She jumped and turned around to see a young boy with her red cohuleen druith in hand.

Meara fumbled off the rock towards him but fell face first onto the pebbles of the shoreline.

The boy gave a quick glance back at her before bolting off a path behind the bushes and up towards the wizarding school.

Dazed and confused, Meara looked down below her waist; where her long, slick once was, she now found new fumbling, naked limbs. The webs between her fingers split away, leaving only the long fingers, and her hair began to shed the green tint, she noticed, as it blew around her face.

Her blood seemed to go cold from the sudden change and her new body began to react to the bitter cold around her. Tears dropped down her cheeks and her lungs began to huff erratically.

She tried her hardest to pick herself up off the ground and back into the water; however, she only got ankle deep before she fell once more. This time, her hands and new limbs scratching on the sharp rocky bottom.

Fresh, warm blood pooled lightly in her hands as the tune in her ear faded away. But she could still hear the music coming from the Black Lake and it seemed to mock her. The harmonies of her people seemed to ring and soar out and, as she tried to sing back with a melody she knew her entire life, her voice no longer seemed to fit. It was an unfamiliar dissonance that her voice created now.

She got up once more and tried to swim deeper and deeper. However, her new body only let her go so far before she broke surface, gasping for air. Without her beloved cohuleen druith, she was stranded.

In defeat, Meara dragged herself out of the water and propped her body against the rock she once sat on. Her body began to shiver—an action that she was not used to as her cold-blooded body once regulated temperature quite well—and made the little hairs on her arms raise in attention. She brought her limbs close together and found it gave little reprieve.

Then, she bowed her head and she wept.

Hours later, as the sun began to creep towards the opposite horizon, when Meara's cries had left her throat raspy and scratchy, and her appendages began to tingle, a small woman with large eyes found her.

"Oh my," She mumbled. "Professors!" The woman called more of her kind and three more were there within seconds.

One woman had bright eyes and wore a long pointy hat. She stood along side an old man with a long beard and small glasses. She recognized the old man as the Headmaster of the school that stood watch over her lake. The last man wore all black. She didn't notice immediately when the man in black shed his outer layer and placed his cloak on her own shoulders. She grasped the hem of it and wrapped it tightly to her shivering bare frame.

"Albus, what should we do?" Bright Eyes questioned the Headmaster.

Without thought, he answered, "Let's get her back to the castle."

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><p><strong>Would you keep reading this? Please let me know what you think! *hugs*<strong>


	2. Billy Weasley

**Ok, guys so this is still a pretty new story but if you thought it was worth the read, just let me know. If you have any criticism, good or bad, let me know. I can handle it. :)**

**Again, none of this is mine. I don't make any money. All belongs to our beloved Rowling. **

******-CM**

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><p>The next day she woke up, Meara woke up anew. She had been given another life, another destiny, another name even—Meara Doe ("It seems we have our own Miss Doe." Dumbledore had said. The name stuck.) The Headmaster also thought it wise to keep her origins a secret as many in the wizarding world are not as accepting as the four professors that found her would be.<p>

Her secret was kept with the Headmaster, McGonagall, Kettleburn, and Snape.

Kettleburn, the mystical creatures professor, had described to them what she was. Most importantly, he described her _cohuleen druith; _that, without it, she is stranded.

Professor McGonagall—the bright eyed woman that found her at the lake—had kindly taken Meara under her wing. McGonagall was as kind as her bright eyes appeared; she'd provided Meara with a set of Gryffindor robes and shown her to a small room right off of the Gryffindor common room, as it was nearing the end of the spring term. (Meara was comfortable sleeping in her own quarters anyways.)

McGonagall had also allowed Meara to try her wand and it seamed that there was hardly any magic in her to cast the most simple of spells. So charms and transfiguration appeared to be out of the question.

As seen fit, Meara was invited to attend divination, potions, herbology, along with a few other elective classes.

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><p><em>That day, in the bottom of their rocky cave, through the terror and turmoil of the battle above., Meara fondly smiled to herself and let out a soft little tune. Bubbles floated up into the creases of the rocks.<em>

_It was at this point in her life that she met the two best men: Bill Weasley and Severus Snape. They each stood out in their own individual ways but were always her favorite people. She missed them dearly. _

Meara met William "Bill" on her first day as an unofficial student of Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall had given her a brief walk through of the castle, or really the best that she could in ten minutes before the next class period was dismissed. After the ten minutes passed, students flowed out of various doors and Meara's senses were assaulted.

Black robes filled and mixed everywhere while students were shouting across the hall to friends and feet shuffled against the stone floor.

"Mister Weasley!" McGonagall grabbed the attention of a boy with bright red hair. Meara observed him further: he appeared to be only a year or two younger than herself but much taller; his smile was wide and welcoming. The boy came over. "Please, make sure Miss Doe gets around the castle without any problems."

Then she turned her attention to Meara. "You're in good hands. And good luck." McGonagall gave a light tap on her shoulder before turning to leave.

Bill looked back at Meara and gave another smile and held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Meara tried to appear as normal and welcoming as she could. "Meara Doe." She found herself staring at his bright red hair every few seconds.

"My entire family has it, you know." Meara brought her eyes back to his face. "The hair, I mean."

"There are more of you? I like it very much. I've never seen such a vibrant color of hair before. At least where I come from." Meara wrung her fingers in her hands a little.

"You're new around here, huh?" Meara blushed a little and nodded. "That's alright. We can always tell, though. If you need any help at all, just ask for a Weasley."

The two continued to walk down the corridor. "There's me, my brother Charlie, Percy and the twins Fred and George. Can't miss us." He laughed a little, pointing to his hair.

Bill must have sensed Meara's unease and nervousness for he stopped near a window and rummaged through his pocket. "And here, hold out your hand."

He dropped in her palm a small wooden like tube. Meara was confused as she picked it up and inspected it; it had small holes down the spine and a larger hole on each end.

"If you need me, but can't find me, just blow at this end." He pointed to the top. Meara put her lips to the tip and let out a hearty blow and an airy light jingle came from Bills other pocket.

"Oh this is beautiful!" Meara was so happy; it was the first time she had ever heard an instrument.

Bill smiled as Meara nearly bounced from foot to foot. "Only the people who have these in their possession can hear it." He blew on his own identical lute and Meara could hear a lower, calmer tone.

"Thank you, Bill. These are wonderful." Meara held the lute tight as she gave him a large, toothy grin.

From this day on, for the rest of the term, Meara and Bill could be found latched at each others' hips. Bill had introduced her to his other brothers and the rest of his friends. To say the least, Bill had helped her feel the most 'normal' than anyone ever could.

And by introducing her to his lute, he opened her keen interest in learning more music for merrows were very musical creatures yet had few instrument of their own. However, through music they expressed themselves. They were able to express happiness and joy. Through music, they could release their anger and bitterness and fear and worry through the notes. They could even communicate, sometimes. Music was how they connected to one another.

Perhaps that's why Meara and Bill had grown so close together so quickly. They communicated in a way she truly understood.

One day, after classes were let out, Meara and Bill sat looking down towards the Black Lake. Meara would still look to her past home with sadness but the pain slowly lessened. The two sat on two large stones that time had worn down to feel soft. They both had out their lutes and Bill was teaching her a short tune. It was joyous and giddy, much like Meara felt when she played. She never understood why. Maybe it was the feel of the smooth wooden finish of the lute beneath her fingers.

Jumbling her thoughts, Meara missed a lick in the tune and became lost. Bill gave out an equally joyous laugh.

Or perhaps the light headed feeling Meara had was his from handsome face and contagious laugh. Yes, Meara fully admitted to herself that Bill was a handsome young man.

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><p><em>Every once and a while, Meara would look back on that thought with a chuckle. They were never meant to be romantically involved. That could be seen when Bill was with his wife, Fleur. Neither of them knew it then, of course. <em>

_It was a shame she couldn't go to their wedding. By then, she had returned home, you see. Meara would've loved to see them dance the night away. _

_Of course, being in the times they were, that's not how it turned out being. The reign of Voldemort's terror stretched far and wide and affected nearly everyone. _

_And then there was Snape. _


	3. A Potions Lesson

**A/N: Aaaah! ****Hello new followers and readers! I'm glad I've attracted some of your attention. **

**Fun fact: I just finished rereading the Philosopher's Stone and the trio had studied how to make the Forgetfulness potion for their end of the year exams...I thought it was a little funny. Anyways. **

**Also, I feel as though as I should say that I am from Wisconsin so I am sure I write with "American Tendencies". With that in mind, if anyone wants to Brit pick for me or point out my errors, feel free!  
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><p>And<em> then there was Snape. <em>

_Of course, he'd been a right git but that's how his personality comes off, right? He's not the most friendliest of men to the normal eye. Once you get past that—far, far past that outer exterior—Severus Snape is a wonderful, brave man. _

_Unfortunately, Meara was not able to experience this version of her professor several years down the road. _

_He had been there at the lake when Meara was first found and he had given her his outer cloak, which she remembered she hadn't given back for quite some time. The next time Meara had seen Snape was in a first year potions lab. No doubt the other professors were unsure of Meara's abilities so McGonagall steered Meara into this specific class. _

_Meara chuckled. Many wizards were arrogant in that way; they all thought any creatures without a wand were stupid. Really, beneath the Black Lake there was a prosperous society. Many of the creatures were quite knowledgeable. The mermaids and merrows would study the aquatic life around them—plants, fish, microorganisms—and even strived to learn about the world above. So, if anything was remotely close to the shore, they would study it. _

_Although this specific lesson had been the worst Meara could ever recall, she would still look back on the memory with fondness. After all, this night was the beginning to quite the relationship. _

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><p>Although Meara had only been on the school grounds for a week, she'd already heard rumors and stories about he Potions Master; none of them were ever good. He was a greasy git, the giant bat of the dungeons, and an unforgiving bastard. That's what many of Bill's friends and classmates said, anyways.<p>

Upon entering the dungeons, Meara noticed a shift in her subconscious from a light happy tone to quite the softened, heavy rumble. Trying to ignore it, Meara found an empty seat, which was, unfortunately for her, towards the front of the room. There was a light murmur of students chatting until the door in back swung shut with a loud rumbling bang and their professor came to the front of the room, with his layers of black robes billowing behind him in ominous waves. He laced his fingers and leaned lightly against the podium at his side.

The entire class stared straight forward, barely even making a sound as he looked over them for a moment. In the silence, Meara shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Professor Snape noticed.

It was then she realized that he was the man who also found her at the lake and had given her his warm cloak.

She gave a small smile, which he did not reciprocate.

"In order to pass this class, you must be able to brew the most simplest of potions. Exams are less than a month away. If any of you manage today without disaster, there may be hope yet." He said with a sneer. "But then again," he started his gaze around the room at his students and said, "I wont set my hopes high."

Meara frowned deeper and the rumble in her head formed into an angry thunderous roll, almost like the end of a symphony finale; it built up louder and louder, increasing the tension with each passing second.

"Page one hundred eleven. You have until the end of class to put a correct vial on my desk.." A few of the students started to slowly rummage through their books to the right page, while the others started back blankly. "It would be wise to start. Now."

At that, the younger students started to scramble about, back and forth from the cabinets to their cauldron, to their book and to the cauldron, and so on.

Meara, on the other hand, walked to an empty cauldron and opened her book. At the top of the page, in bold letters it was written "FORGETFULLNESS". As she looked down the list of ingredients, they seemed as simple as the title of the potion.

She gathered her necessary ingredients—various herbs, flower roots, and a Jobberknoll feather—and started to prepare her cauldron. As she started to grind the roots with the mortar and pestle, she could hear the dark growl summersault into a slow but uplifting chorale. It's simple phrases and progressions urged her along in the brewing process.

She let the music rising in her head guide the movements of her hands. All the other movements of those around her soon became muffled as she was solely focused on finishing the potion. Some of her actions followed the directions of the potion book while others were simply lead by her instinct and the knowledge of her species.

Contrary to what the book said, Meara started to pluck small wisps of the feather off the Jobberknoll quill. Little by little, she began to add the wisps of the feather into her cauldron.

"What do you think you are doing, Miss Merrow?" She heard her professor sharply growl from behind her.

Being jerked out of her state of focus, Meara let out a small surprised gasp and the encouraging melody in her head died to a sudden halt. She looked over her shoulder to see his face wearing a deep frown, clearly scrutinizing her every move.

"I was just adding Jobberknoll feather, Sir."

"That is not how the book instructs you." He stepped closer to take a glance in her cauldron. She could not read any expression on Professor Snape's face as he looked in. His eyes squinted and his thin lips pulled tighter across his face. He leaned back to her side once more. A moment passed between the two and Meara was disappointed then that all she could hear in her head was the rushing of blood as her heart continued to nervously stutter.

Snape leaned in closer to Meara but did not lower his voice to whisper. "I do not accept cheating in my classroom, Miss Doe."

"What?" Meara's eyes shot up to Professor Snape's face.

"Who is helping you?" Snape's eyes shifted to the students beside her. Clearly it wasn't them as their cauldrons were smoking orange fumes and smelled putrid.

"Sir, I—"

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? Do you think me stupid?"

"Sir, I DID NOT cheat!" Meara threw her stirring rod onto the table and it clattered to a halt with a forceful 'clang'.

Meara's outburst caused the room to go still, including Snape.

"Detention, Miss Doe, for a week. I do not tolerate cheaters or liars."

"I would never cheat, Sir, I—"

"You are dismissed from my classroom." Snape ended with a sour growl. "Put everything away and leave."

Meara frowned and bowed her head. She was furious that he would ever accuse her of such a thing. As she was packing up, Meara heard Snape yell to the rest of the class, "Get back to work!"

When finished putting everything away, Meara started to walk out the door. On her way out, Snape called out, "Miss Doe."

Meara turned around with a bitter scowl.

"Return tonight at seven. Do not be late." Snape waved Meara away with one hand. Now leave."


	4. Detention with Snape

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reading! If you keep with me, I hope to have this story finished by the end of the summer or into the start of the school year. So just hold tight. :)**

**Again, I own nothing but Meara. If I did, Snape would never die!**

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><p>For the next full week, Meara had suffered through nightly detention with Snape. At first, it was passed by simple, monotonous tasks—with things she could do without any brain function: scrubbing cauldrons and brewing tools, sweeping out the storage cupboards, sorting ingredients. However, there was one night, about half way through the week, that had been different.<p>

Meara walked down to the dungeons. As she walked lower and lower into the belly of the castle, the more grateful she became that she added an extra layer on. She knocked at the large door before her and waited until she heard a muffled "Enter" from the other side.

Walking in the room, Meara pushed the door behind her until she heard a click as the door closed. "Evening, Professor Snape."

He didn't answer her right away as his head was bowed down and focused on a long scroll of parchment lying on his desk before him.

As the seconds passed, Meara was allowed to take his appearance in. Snape looked tired. Dreadfully so. It was the first time she noticed _how_ tired he always seemed. Tonight, as his dark hair hung past his cheek bones, his complexion looked even more sallow than usual.

She lightly cleared her throat and when he didn't answer again, Meara said, "Right. I'll just start cleaning."

"No." Snape quickly said. Meara watched as his eyes finished scanning the parchment—perhaps to the end of an important thought. "Not tonight." Now Snape stood up and walked over towards one of the working tables. He raised a finger up to motion Meara over. She moved to his side.

Snape had already gathered bushels full of daisies and they were stacked on the adjoining workstation.

"I need these cleaned and diced." Before Meara said anything, he raised his finger up, as if to 'shush' her. Snape then grabbed a daisy, pulled off each of the pedals and discarded the stem. He then picked up a knife with a large, broad blade. Snape rocked it back and forth, letting his wrist lead the way it cut. With a few pedals diced into small pieces, Snape set the blade down and moved to the side for Meara to move in.

Hesitantly, Meara picked up the knife and mimicked Snape's actions.

He observed her for a moment or two. Satisfied, he walked to the back of the room. To a storeroom, perhaps.

Meara had been dicing the daisies for what had seemed like almost an hour. The motion of the rocking blade had become easy. She was able to do it without concentration so her focus had turned to her inner thoughts.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. _

When she would later reflect upon this moment, Meara couldn't exactly remember what she thought about. Probably her friendship with Bill. They had grown very close together. Bill had even brought up the notion of her visiting the Burrow over the summer vacation.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. _

Meara smiled a little. The idea was wonderful and made her feel very happy and bubbly inside.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. _

Once more, a fluttering melody scattered through her thoughts. It uplifted her spirits and calmed the muscles of her body.

_Tap, tap…._

A bolting pain ran from the fingers of Meara's left hand to the rest of her body. She dropped the blade and hissed inward, bringing her hand close to her chest, cradling it in her other free hand. Meara looked down and could see large droplets of red spilling down the length of her wrist and arm. The red seeped into the sleeves of her robes and white arm sleeve.

"P-Professor." Meara called out, slightly immobilized at the sight.

There was no response.

"Professor Snape!" She called out louder as she brought her hand closer to her body. Her arm was becoming fully soaked.

Meara could hear his hurried footsteps come from behind her. He angrily said, "What could you possibly do wrong?" But when he came into view of the situation, his mood immediately shifted.

"I-I'm sorry. I d-don't know what hap-pened." It was now that Meara could feel herself shaking and her line of vision was becoming slightly blurry.

"Sit." Snape pushed her onto one of the high stools and her back leaned against the worktable's edge.

Snape stood close beside her and grabbed her wounded hand. As he did so, her blood smeared onto his pale fingers. With his other hand, he pulled his wand out and concentrated, as if thinking of the best solution.

Meara looked down at her fingers and could clearly see a deep wound. It was close to a tendon and broke through muscle and fat.

With a quick snap of the wrist, Snape said, "Episkey" and her wound snapped shut. It seemed to work for just a few moments until the finger began to swell up.

"Sir, I don't think this worked."

Meara's finger continued to slowly swell and pressure underneath began to press against the bone, tissue, and tendons, causing her full hand to go numb.

"I know, it's only a temporary fix. We can't have you bleeding out through the halls." Snape walked towards the door. "You need to see Madam Pomfrey now hurry up."

Meara stood up and the blood rushed from her head, making her even dizzier. She put a hand to her head for a moment only to walk as fast as she could after him. Once she got out of the classroom, Meara could see a flick of his dark robes turn around a corner and she struggled to keep up to his pace.

"Professor Snape! Wait, please."

The pressure on her finger began to pulse through her entire arm, eventually making the entire limb numb and useless. Meara brought it close to her chest.

Meara paused at the bottom of the spiral staircase as her vision became hazy once more. She took a deep breath and pushed through, going up the first few steps.

Professor Snape had turned around to see that she had fallen drastically behind. "There's no time to dawdle, Miss Doe. Pick up the pace."

"Professor Snape," She took another deep breath, only to feel herself fall forward and out of consciousness.

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><p><em>Meara remembered having one of the strangest dreams of her life. <em>

_She had been in a village, naked and exposed for all she was. She tried to cover herself but to little avail. People stood outside the doors ad mocked her. Some of them yelled, others spoke with their faces. Children pointed from the windows. _

_Meara didn't belong. _

_Then there was a flash of red. _

_Her cloak! _

_Spinning around, she saw a flicker of red go around the corner and Meara tried to chase after it. _

_Really, once rounding the corner, there was nothing or no one there. She was being teased. _

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><p>The dream hadn't been horrible to say the least but when she awoke, Meara was unsettled and left with an excruciating longing.<p>

Meara squeezed her eyes shut hard before letting them open and adjust to the light.

She had been in a little squeaky bed, much like the first day she'd woken up in her new life—in the hospital wing. Soft light filtered through the glass windows and left a hazy smog to the room.

In the far corner, near the door, Professor Snape was talking with Madame Pomfrey, his back turned to her.

When Meara adjusted her weight to sit up a little, Pomfrey looked around Snape's shoulder with a smile. Snape, however, turned around and looked at Meara for a quick second with an unreadable expression—anger? Frustration? Regret?...guilt?—and turned back to Pomfrey to give a slight nod and left the room.

Madam Pomfrey came to her side to check the wrapping around her left hand; it wrapped around the entire palm and index and middle finger, leaving Meara mostly immobilized with that hand.

Madame Pomfrey had kept her in the hospital wing for the night and made her return regularly for check ups and to change the wrap.

However, Meara started to attend the classes less and less. The dream she had when she was unconscious had snapped her back to reality. It made her miss home.

There were times that, between classes, she was sure McGonagall and the Headmaster paused on their way to see Meara sitting on a ledge or rock, looking silently out to the Black Lake.

Each time, it seemed, she would move closer and closer to it until she was right at the shoreline once more. Each time, she would be hit with a craving, gnarling desire to run and dive into the depths but she knew fully well that would never happen. Not with her cohuleen druith missing.

Each time, when she would return back to the castle, Meara was sure her frown was a little deeper.

People started noticing but they wouldn't understand. Fred noticed, all his friends noticed, and the professors, too.

However, it was then that her friendships with them were assured as they tried their best to help, even Dumbledore, in his own little way.

"Miss Doe, might I have a word?" He came up to her one day, when she was sitting under a large tree, once more looking out towards the lake.

She stood up as he reached out for her hand and the two of them started to walk down the shoreline and around the rocks.

"Miss Doe, I understand how much of a challenging time this must be for you and I sincerely hope that you've been able to find comfort here." He looked down to her past his spectacles.

Meara nodded and gave a little smile.

"The Weasley's are quite the wonderful bunch."

A silence eased in between the two and the crunch of the rocks replaced their words for a little while.

"There is no need to ever go far from home."

"Sir?"

"What I mean to say is that, after discussing with my colleagues, you are welcome to stay here after the term ends. Professor Sprout says you have quite a way with plants and she would be more than happy to have your help, if you're interested."

"Actually, Professor Dumbledore, I've been thinking about things a lot lately and there's an idea that I've been mulling over."

"Oh?" Dumbledore smiled a wide grin. "And what might that be?"


	5. Change

**A/N: Thanks to those who added me to your alerts and to The Yoshinator for leaving me a review! It makes me want to write more!**

**And I apologize for publishing this so late. I mean to post twice a week but this chapter wasn't leaving me satisfied. I've done some editing to it and I'm hoping that it can move the story along smoother. I didn't know how to go about it so...let me know if I did justice. **

**Also, I don't own anything Harry Potter, except for Meara. I don't believe I have much writing abilities so I just do this for fun. :)  
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><p>Meara<em> had<em> given a lot of thought to her life lately. After the dream she'd had after she was unconscious, her new life was put into perspective and it was high time she did something about it.

It was dreadfully true that she missed her home under the lake but _this_ world was her new home and she'd better get used to it. The sooner the better.

It was after the dream that Meara began to invest more of her time in the library, finding more applicable knowledge there rather than the classrooms; what she found interest in, the school had no known curriculum of such a course: music.

When Bill had given her the little lute, Meara quickly learned that he was presenting something valuable beyond measure, although quite less valuable to others at Hogwarts.

Meara spent hours with her nose in books about music; about the different instruments, national musicians, and composers. Magic, she learned, even had significance here! Some of the most prominent of composers, such as Lully or Bach, secretly used magic to help in their writing process.

When Meara told Professor Dumbledore these thoughts, he only gave a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"And I understand, sir, that there's no room for that here. I am ready to leave. In fact, I think I need to," Meara had then said to him.

"That is a wonderful idea, Miss Doe."

* * *

><p><em>Summer 1994<em>

Meara Doe had been a resident and student of the London Music Conservatory for several years now.

The school, which accepted wizards and muggles alike, also openly accepted Meara with out hesitation.

Unlike at Hogwarts, Meara found herself to fit in quite well. In fact, she'd been at the head of her class and soon excelled past them. She finished much of the curriculum in a short period of time but still frequented the school to attend workshops, seminars, and to chat with her favorite professor, Professor Polkins.

Polkins was the first professor of the conservatory Dumbledore had introduced her too-they had been long time friends and she'd owed him a favor.

Presently, Meara lived in a small flat in London, just a short walk from Diagon Alley. However, she could not say she actually lived in it much these days.

Lately, Meara had been either practicing an instrument, in Polkin's office, or teaching another student. On the off chance she wasn't doing any of these, there would be the rare opportunity for sleep.

However, her schedule seemed to break free and Meara was left with extra time; there were no concerts, no performances, no workshops, and it was summer so there were no extra classes she could pop in and observe; even her closest friends were gone and busy!

For the past three months, Meara had gone crazy. She'd played through every piece of sheet music, read and reread countless books, visited muggle shops, even attempted to rearrange her living room. Time seemed to inch by when there was nothing exciting to look forward to.

Ever since she left the Black Lake and attended Hogwarts, then the Conservatory, Meara had always visited the Weasleys each summer at the Burrow. However, this year Arthur Weasley had recently won a contest put off by the _Daily Prophet_ and he and the entire family had gone to Egypt.

There, the Weasleys visited historical sites and their son, Bill, also Meara's best friend from Hogwarts.

Since Bill left for Egypt, the two of them made a point to stay in contact and they sent letters almost on a bi-weekly basis. However, Meara hadn't gotten one from him in almost a month. She picked up his letter again and started to scan through it.

_Meara,_

_It's been hectic around here…..It's been hot, too….The family is coming to visit! Wish you could come too….I think about you sometimes….Write to you when I can…._

Meara set down the letter again on the coffee table in front of her. That day, Meara had found a new odd yet comfortable position to sit in her living chair, her legs thrown over the arms and her remaining limbs resting limp.

In the opposite corner of the room played a record on her gramophone, both of which she'd managed to find at a rummage sale, both in excellent condition.

Meara's feet bounced along to the rolling bass line coming through the brass bell and she'd closed her eyes only to feel even more restless. She was so used to constant stimulation that when there was a chance to relax, Meara wasn't sure what to do with herself. _Change needed to happen in her life. _

She walked into the living room and unzipped the case of her violin. Like an old lover, it molded right into her body when she picked it up. Meara closed her eyes, and let her fingers guide the music—by memeory, she started to play a Bach partida, her favorite.

Time passed—Meara wasn't sure—and a cool, evening breeze fluttered through her windows. She could feel the breeze on her bare legs.

A flap and a small 'whoo' caused Meara to open her eyes and put down the violin at her side. A large, beautiful owl perched itself on the arm of her living chair. Walking over to it, the bird dropped the letter in her hand.

Meara flipped the envelope between her fingers—soft paper, sealed shut with a red, official looking wax stamp. She pealed it open.

_To Miss Meara Doe_

_Bill Weasley's Room_

_The Burrow_

_Dear Miss Doe, _

_I am requesting your company to discuss a job opportunity for the Ministry. Headmaster Dumbledore has referred to us your name in high esteem. _

_Please send an owl and we can set up an appointment. _

_Regards,_

_Cornelius Fudge_

_Minister of Magic _

She brought the letter to her side a moment and thought. _Well, my schedule is free. Not sure why he wants me, though. _Meara set the letter down to write her quick response.

_Minister Fudge, _

_ I will be happy to meet with you in the mid morning—perhaps eleven? I look forward to your proposition._

_ Meara Doe_

Meara sealed the letter shut and handed it to the impatient bird sitting in the window. It flew off with a loud clap of its wings and Meara checked her watch; the face only read six in the evening.

The rest of the night, Meara went from flipping through the telly, flipping through pages of books, reading music articles, and playing various etudes and melodies on one instrument or another. There was too much free time she'd had over the summer holiday and it was starting to get to her. At this rate, she'd be lucky that she hadn't pulled out hairs waiting for time to inch by.

* * *

><p>The next morning, woke up at least seven hours early before she had to leave. Really, the idea of leaving her flat and going somewhere and interacting with <em>other <em>people had honestly lifted her spirits. However, it still left too much time in her hands.

By ten, she'd already dressed in a grey suit, done her hair up, re-stringed her violin, tinkered around on her keyboard, read half way through a book, and even spruced up her flat. She'd tried her hardest not to stare at the clock on her living room wall.

By ten thirty, Meara was _more_ than eager to leave.

She'd flooed to the Ministry and now sat outside of Fudge's office. His secretary, a petite brunette, had told her to take a seat. As she waited, her right foot nervously twitched back and forth where her ankles crossed each other. The room was silent, except for a Bach melody floating in her thoughts.

"You can go in now." The small woman broke the silence.

She quickly stood up and walked over to the large door. With a soft push, Meara entered the room. Fudge looked up from his desk as she entered.

"Ah, Miss Doe! I'm glad you made it. Thank you for coming." He stood up and walked around his large maple desk to shake her hand and Meara greeted him with a broad smile. "Please, please, have a seat." He motioned towards a small chair across from his desk. "Let's get right to business, shall we?"

"Of course, Sir."

Fudge sat back down in his red leather chair behind the desk. "To be frank, the Ministry has decided that another class should be added to the curriculum at Hogwarts."

"And what class would this be?" Meara crossed her legs in front of her.

"A selection of music courses—performance, appreciation, history, what have you. Hogwarts has never offered this sort of thing before so it's all up to you, really. There would be only one requirement and that would be to create a performing group by the end of the school year."

"Why this sort of class? As far as I'm aware, most of the wizarding world is oblivious to this sort of thing." Meara thoughtfully asked.

"Adding this to the curriculum would broaden their skills and—ah—cultural awareness. It seems more of the aesthetic courses are being offered at Beauxbaton's. The students at Hogwarts deserve the best, don't you think, Miss Doe?"

Fudge wore an odd smile—portraying perhaps not complete honesty behind his answer—but continued anyways.

"Dumbledore holds your name in high esteem and you were the only referral to this position." Fudge said from his chair and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the leather covered desktop. "Of course, I don't expect an answer immediately but—."

"Yes," Meara, without much thought spoke. "I'll do it."

"Oh, well splendid, Miss Doe! I'm glad you could make such a quick decision." Fudge, slightly surprised, stood up and offered his hand out to shake hers. "It's official then. My secretary outside will be able to help with the paper work."

"Thank you, Sir, for the opportunity. It'll be fantastic." Meara smiled, shaking his hand.

Like Fudge said, the small brunette woman outside his office had helped Meara sign papers and gave her packets to read over of what was expected of her and certain expectations of Hogwarts staff members. Included in these packets, Meara learned she could move into her new office and chambers in as soon as a week's time.

Even though clouds began to settle in over London, the unexpected turn in her life put a large grin on Meara's face.

There was no way she'd be sitting in her little flat, waiting for time to crawl by anymore.

Satisfied, Meara decided to treat herself to a small sweet and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron, just down a few streets. And she was out and about anyways. Why not?

She walked through the moving brick door just as a few other wizards were walking through and headed towards the ice cream parlor. She'd gotten a chocolate cone and, when looking through the glass display windows, she could see that it began to rain.

Meara rummaged through her small side purse, pulled out a bright colored umbrella and stepped outside. Instead of looking straight onto her path, a group of small children peering into a window and giggling caught her attention.

This is when she'd run into a very solid object. Her ice cream smeared into her hands and rolled onto the person before her.

"Oh I'm so sorry, how clumsy—," Meara said, heat rising to her cheeks. She'd moved the umbrella to the side to look up into their face.

For the first time in several years, Meara looked up to see a face from her Hogwarts years and she smiled.


	6. Potatoes and Gravy

_**A/N: Thanks again to The Yoshinator for sending a review and I'm glad more of you are reading!**_

_**This is a short chapter but I felt it'd be good to break it up. Also, I had a lot of fun writing this one so I hope you enjoy reading it!**_

* * *

><p><em>Meara frowned. Still taking cover in their rocky cove of the Black Lake, Meara's siblings chose to stay hidden in the weedy coves and ignore what was happening on the Surface. But it didn't settle right with Meara. <em>

_It carved at her insides like a parasite; it got worse and worse the longer she tried to ignore it._

* * *

><p><em>Some others under the lake, like her, had been disturbed and could be seen edging close to the surface while many still stuck to their daily routine as if there wasn't any bloodshed taking place just above them. <em>

_Meara hugged her body closer in a tight ball and closed her eyes, instantly taking her to another time and place. With a smile, she remembered. _

Meara honestly smiled. When she'd moved her umbrella aside, she'd looked up into the snarling face of Professor Severus Snape. His lip curled upwards and his attention focused from her spilt ice cream to her face, completely ignoring the drizzling rain.

"Why are you smiling? Or did you not realize what you've just done?" Snape mumbled a spell and cleaned the ice cream off his robes.

"I'm very sorry, Professor. I should be watching where I'm going better."

"Yes, you should. Now move." Snape rushed past her, barley missing hitting her shoulder, and into another shop.

Embarrassed and wanting to get out of the rain, Meara also chose another shop—a small book store. She'd spent an hour or so, casually browsing the book bindings and filing through interesting articles.

By the time she was ready to leave, the rain had stopped and Meara had a rather large stack of books balancing in her arms. She'd managed not to trip on the cobblestone paved roads of Diagon Alley but her luck didn't improve.

When Meara was walking through the Leaky Cauldron, ready to head home, she had not seen the group of rowdy young gents in her path. So, she walked forward, one rambunctious man swung his arms back, smacking Meara backward slightly. Her foot tripped on a misplaced stool, lunging her farther back and landed on a table close to the back of the room. Her books splattered all around and the back of her head bounced hard on the wood.

"Bloody Hell, woman!" A man yelled in surprise.

The group of men, too inebriated to notice or care, ignored Meara still.

Meara clutched the back of her head, her vision slightly blurry and the wind knocked out of her a little. She rested on her elbows and her line of sight became straight.

One more, for the second time that day, Meara looked up into the sour face of Severus Snape. This time, he was standing up, arms raised in shock, and his frock was splattered with white lumps and gravy.

When he came to realize who was sitting on his table, he rolled his eyes and let out a long exasperated moan.

"For God's sake." He performed the same spell as earlier, only on himself, and grabbed his cloak off the back of the chair to abruptly leave the Leaky Cauldron.

"Professor Snape, wait!" Meara got up to run after him.

Upon standing up, Meara realized that her bum was in fact plastered in Snape's meal—potatoes, veggies, and gravy—, all sticky and leaving a discolored stain on her skirt.

Meara tried to ignore it and left her books lying on the floor. "Professor, please." She'd caught up with him, although he kept is fast pace down the street.

"Just leave me be, girl."

"Sir, I'm sorry that I'm an incredible pain in your ass—."

"Clearly, Miss Doe. You've assaulted me and attacked me and now you've had the nerve to confront me. I'm sure this hasn't crossed your mind, but the summer holiday is the only time I am given the opportunity to avoid such _stupidity._ Now, leave me be." Snape started to walk off again.

"No, respectfully, I can't, Professor."

Snape stopped, mid stride and turned around.

"No?" He raised a dark eyebrow.

Under his scrutiny and angered gaze, Meara tried to find backbone.

"I am sorry for ruining your meal and just…today. But, please, let me make it up to you. Let me—let me make dinner for you."

Snape was about to turn and leave again.

"We're going to be colleagues after all. Please. I just—I don't want to start off on a bad foot like this."

Snape walked forward, this time much closer to Meara, just inches away from her face and far too close into her personal space. His eyes studied her in small slits.

"Friday evening, six' o'clock, look for my owl." Snape finally spoke. "I like pork. Now, _leave me be."_

In a small victory, Meara turned around and began to walk back towards the Leaky Cauldron with the beginning of a smile on her face.

"Oh, and Miss Doe?" She turned her head to hear him better. "Please restrain from wearing the food this next time." Snape's, she noticed, was directed to the glob of brown gravy now trickling down her calf.

That day had been embarrassing. Most embarrassing.


End file.
